


See the World

by youngandbitchy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Acting, Actor Tom Hiddleston, Actors, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Breaking Up & Making Up, Cussing, Declarations Of Love, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Innuendo, Jealous Tom Hiddleston, M/M, Post-Break Up, Reader-Insert, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Self-Insert, Selfless Tom Hiddleston, Some Humor, Tom Hiddleston Is A Sweetheart, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love, Tumblr: young-and-bitchy, we get rid of that jersey tom always wears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 03:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20324263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngandbitchy/pseuds/youngandbitchy
Summary: When the job gets in the way of your relationships, problems are set to rise.





	1. See the World

**Author's Note:**

> This was a piece for a writing challenge on Tumblr. I cried making this so I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> The prompt is: "You go too fast for me."
> 
> [Lost Without You — Freya Ridings]

You woke up from your nap on the couch from the plane. The first person you saw was Tom: he sat on a reclining chair, reading Hamlet for the thousandth time at least. You smiled at the sight. 

“That’s creepy,” Tom said. 

“I think it’s romantic.” 

You yawned. You got up from the couch and sat on Tom’s lap, almost falling on top of him and the chair going back. 

You laughed. “Okay, okay.” Tom wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you in place, his book open on the other hand. He stayed focused on his reading. 

You detailed him: his ungroomed beard, his messy copper hair; his features, sharp and determined, like him. His cologne was masculine, but not too strong that it went up to your nostrils and gave you a headache. He wore the same distinctive blue jersey. 

You kissed him on the cheek, your hand caressing the back of his neck. “I love you,” you whispered. 

He smiled. “I love you, too.” 

“How are you preparing?” 

“I’m… kind of nervous,” he admitted. “It’s theatre. There’s no room for mistakes, especially when you have a reputation.” 

You put your head on his shoulder. “Well, whenever you feel nervous, you can look out at the front row and see me cheering you on.” 

He smiled and kissed your temple. “Thank you.” 

“Read to me.” 

You snuggled into his side, and the moment Tom was about to start, your agent and your assistant walked into the cabin. 

“I thought I’d heard you talk! Good,” your manager said. 

You sighed. “I’m sorry,” you told Tom. 

He heard those words a lot from you lately. 

“It’s okay.” He closed the book. “I’m gonna go shave.” 

You both got up and you gave Tom space to go to the bathroom. You watched him walk away, and something about it hurt. Something about his support. He didn’t deserve this. 

“So, about the red carpet tonight…” 

And you’d hear your agent say the same words she’d been saying for the last year and a half: _you’re in the peak of your career, you need to take opportunities when they show up, you have so many scripts to read too, you have to choose another project, your things are being moved to LA as we speak. _

But you didn’t listen.

—

You showed up at the red carpet of the first film for a trilogy you’d act at in the sequel. Your outfit glowed, you walked impeccably, your smile shun. These were a few of the moments you loved about your job. Yes, some actors hated being in the spotlight for too long (Tom was one of them), but you’d craved the attention for so long… and now you were here, and you didn’t want to stop. 

You spoke with a few reporters, tried to keep it brief and spoiler-free, and when the time came to enter the theatre for the film, you found your agent speaking with a couple. 

When she saw you, she excused herself and rushed to you. 

“Hey! I have great news! That was a friend of Taika Waititi! She said she can vouch for you for one of his films! Isn’t it great?” 

Your eyes widened. “What? Really?!” Excitement bubbled up inside you, filling you up everywhere. 

“Yeah!” 

You shook on the spot, close enough to a victory dance. “That means I could have the chance to work with Tom!” You exclaimed. “Uh, speaking of, when can I go?” 

She snorted. “What do you mean? You’re not going anywhere.” 

“Tom’s performance is tonight. He goes live in twenty! I promised I’d be there.” 

“I’m… I’m so sorry, (Y/N), but you have to stay. If people found out you didn’t stay for the movie when the news comes out that you’re starring in the sequel… it won’t look good.” People lined up to enter. “C’ mon, get in.” 

You cursed to yourself for a full minute when you sat down. You took a deep breath and pulled out your phone.

You: _I can’t make it. Lina played me. I’m so sorry! Meet you at the station to say goodbye._

For a few seconds, you saw those taunting three dots… and then nothing. Pitch silence. 

The silence of disappointment. 

—

Tom was about to get on the train, five minutes before call-out as usual, when you found him. You’d gotten out of your red carpet’s clothes in the car, put on jeans and a t-shirt. You gave him a smile when your gazes met… but he gave you a fake one in return. 

You’d known him long enough to know the difference.

You rushed to his side. “Tom, I’m so sorry. I tried to get out of it and… and I couldn’t. Lina said I couldn’t, I-” 

“Hey, hey, stop.” He offered you a tight-lipped smile. “It’s okay.” 

But still, the disappointment was there, scribbled across his face and stiff body language. 

“How did it go?” You asked him. 

“Good, good. Benedict was around! And he… he made it. I-” And your phone ringing drowned the conversation. Tom sighed, loud. “Answer.” 

“No, no. It’s fine.” You turned your phone off. “See? All good. Hey, why don’t I meet you in London? So I can make it up to you. Take a day off, or we- we can go anywhere.” 

But Tom didn’t give you an expected answer like let’s hit Bora Bora, I hear it’s beautiful this time of the year or we’ve never been to Disneyland Paris. Instead, he said, 

“I can’t keep doing this.” 

Your heart stopped beating for a moment, and then it ran at light-speed, loud enough for you to hear the hum in your ears. 

“What- What do you mean?” 

“**You go too fast for me**, (Y/N). I… I’ve been running behind you for the last year, putting projects on hold, putting my life on hold for you, hoping that someday you’ll slow down and we’ll… we’ll be able to go back, but…” 

“We can! We… I’ll take a break, I promise. I’ll slow down.” 

“No, I can’t ask that of you.” 

“Tom… Don’t leave me, please,” you pleaded, tears falling from your eyes, a lot more of them in-store. 

You saw Tom’s blue eyes, and with the water threatening to pour out of them, they looked like the ocean at midnight. 

“Hey.” He put his hands on your neck. “Look at me.” Your eyes met his, and the pain hit you like a storm. “I love you. God, I love you so much… which is why I have to do this. (Y/N), I’m not happy anymore, but I’m not going to let you jeopardise your happiness for me.” 

_That’s exactly what I had done. _

You cried. “(Y/N), you’re finally living your dream. You’ve been fighting for this all your life. This is not the moment to slow down, but… maybe this is not the moment for us, either.” 

Your breath sped up, your forehead against his, and as you nodded to his statement, your heart shattered into a million pieces. A rock against a mirror, no faith for salvation. 

Tom kissed you with hunger and passion and need, and you returned it with the same anxiety, both of you aware it would be the last, at least for a while. You hugged him afterwards, his familiar embrace only hurting you more, making it difficult to even breathe. 

“I love you so much, Thomas.” 

Tom let out a laugh among his tears. “I love you so much, Dragonfly.” 

The nickname only made you cry harder. 

“Passengers aboard!” 

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, no.” He broke off the hug to hold your hands. “Don’t apologise, okay?” He wiped away one of your tears. “You worked so hard to get to where you are, and you have a long, amazing way to go. I couldn’t be prouder.” 

And you thought it would be easier. God, it would be so much easier to deal with the guilt if he hated you. If he didn’t want to see your guts again. However, here he is, saying how much he loves you and how proud he is. 

He gave you a wet kiss on the cheek. “Go see the world. I’ll meet you on the flip side, my love.” 

And with that, he let go of your hand, walking towards the doors of the train. He took one last look at you before getting in: a hopeful one. He blew you a kiss, and you pretended to catch it, refugeeing it in your chest. 

You left your heart on the platform as you watched Tom get on the train. God, you couldn’t stop crying. The remaining strangers started to notice, and soon they would recognise who you were, so you ran up the stairs to the car waiting for you. 

Immediately, your agent started talking, “Where were you? I was about to go find you! We’re running late to the-”

“Lina,” you interrupted her, and the lack of expression in your face troubled the woman. You grabbed the binder from her lap, and said, “Leave.” 

“What?! What are you-” 

“You’re fired.” A deafening silence filled the car. Your driver and your assistant stayed quiet, too shocked to cross you. “Hank, open the door for her.” 

Hank, a man too buff for his chauffeur’s uniform, got out of the driver’s seat and opened the door for your former manager. 

“(Y/N), you’re gonna regret this. Think this through.” 

“I’m regretting something: hiring you in the first place. Now get the fuck out.” 

Lina grabbed her purse, Hank closed the door and the car drove away, leaving her at the taxi stop of Birmingham Snow Hill. 

You broke down the moment the car passed the right corner. Your assistant passed herself from the passenger’s side to the back seat in two swift movements, holding your head in her lap as you cried, immediately knowing what had happened. Loss propagated through the car and, in your way to see the world, you cried over disappointing the person you loved the most. 


	2. Never Really Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Tom see each other again after three months to work on the same project. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you really want to get the feel: Love You Like That — Dagny.

Tom sprayed on the good cologne that morning. He looked into the mirror three more times than he usually did, and he practised different smiles and forms of pleasantries. **  
**

“This is ridiculous,” he said to himself, let out a sigh and continued to say _hey _and _hi_. 

He didn’t know if he should’ve felt as nervous as he did. It was you, after all. It had been a year and a half ever since you two broke up, three months since the last time you saw each other, and a day since you’d last spoken. 

He hadn’t been good at the moving on situation, but they hadn’t agreed to that, had they? 

Five kilometres away, on set, you arrived early for hair and make-up. Radio music played in a low volume at the trailer, coffees sat on the tables next to foundations, eyeshadows and fake lashes and you skimmed the script for the scenes you’d film that day. 

“First day. You excited?” Your hairdresser asked while she looked at you through the mirror. 

You nodded. “Excited and ecstatic and nervous.” 

She waved a hand, dismissive. “I’ve seen you in action, you’ll do great.” 

The door to the trailer opened and you turned your chair to see Tom, who carried two brown paper bags in one hand and a coffee on the other. His stretched shoulders contributed to his height and posture, slimmer and buffer in muscle. His eyes matched his navy blue jersey and looking at them again after what felt like an eternity brought ease and happiness to your soul. He’d brushed his hair back and he didn’t have his beard anymore, allowing you to see his face clearer: fair, clean, fresh. 

And, with a glowing smile, he said, “Good morning everyone,” to the women he’d seen every morning for the last two weeks and to you.

“Good morning,” everyone said at unison. 

“Good morning,” you repeated off-tone. 

His eyes set on you and you give him a smile: a genuine, went-to-bed-at-three smile. He looked down, blushing.

You still had that effect on him. Good. 

“I brought breakfast!” Tom put down the bags on the table and started to pull out smaller ones. “Marissa, Chey, Rosa, and… (Y/N).”

You frowned, taking the bag he handed out to you. “You brought me breakfast?” 

“Yes. A breakfast burrito with egg and bacon.” 

You opened the bag. “You remembered.” 

“(Y/N), I lived with you for six months.” He sat on the chair beside you. “Of course I remembered, especially with how obnoxious you were on the butter amount and the bacon crisp.” 

“Hey! Five is the luckiest number, okay? And the butter has to be the—” 

“—enough amount to butter the eggs and not affect the bacon. Yes, yes, I know.” 

“My hero.” You got a part of the burrito out of the bag. “Can I thank you with a tip?” 

“What?” He asked and took a sip of his coffee. 

“Get rid of that jersey.” Tom almost choked and he grinned with a drop of coffee falling from his mouth. “Tom, I adore you, okay? But, c’ mon… You only have pictures with that thing.” 

“Looking at my pictures, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Love, I have enough of those in my gallery to pay for my sister’s medical school.” Tom chuckled. “Why don’t you just give it to charity? No, not that, no one will have that. Uh! Give it to me, I’ll use it as a floor towel when I get out of the shower.” _Or wear it during cold nights… or all nights for the rest of my life, take your pick. _

He rolled his eyes and changed the subject as his mind still ran through the _I adore you_ part. 

“How are you feeling?” 

You breathed in. “Pretty good. I’ve been going method in the day-to-day, but… we’ll see what Loki can do.” 

“Oh, you just wait.” 

“Is that a promise?” You asked, and this time you wiggled your eyebrows. 

He let out a sigh mixed with exasperation and humour. “Just eat your burrito.” 

You laughed. 

—

You finished off at eleven, and you had to be back at five. You and Tom came out at the same time from your trailers, finding each other at midnight. He carried a bag, a coffee and wore a hoodie you were certain you used several times.

“Hello there, sir. Fancy seeing you here,” you joked. 

You closed the doors to your trailers. “Going home?” 

You nodded. “A great nap is waiting for me.” He offered you the coffee and you took it, taking a sip out of it. You flinched to the bitter, acid liquid. “What the fuck is that?” 

“Triple espresso.” 

You scuffed. “How dare you?” You returned the cup to him. 

Tom chuckled and you arrived at your cars. Tom had a new Jaguar, and you wondered if he’d ever purchase another brand. 

Probably not. 

“Hm, I have something for you.” Tom opened his bag and pulled out his navy blue jersey. He handed it to you, folded and clean, yet with his scent lingering on it. 

“The jersey? Tom, I- I was kidding, I—” 

“It’s okay. You always pulled it off better than me, either way.” 

You gulped and under the night sky, alone in a parking lot, you almost believed you could do anything without suffering any consequences. Under the night sky, you wanted to kiss him. Under the night sky, you would’ve let him fuck you on top of his car. 

“Tha- Thanks.” 

He nodded. “You’re welcome. Goodnight, (Y/N).” 

“Goodnight.”

Tom drove away. When you got inside your car you opened the jersey and smelled it: soft cologne, mint, sandalwood. Tears fell from your eyes as you kissed the fabric where his skin used to be, holding onto it as a reminder of the man you called home over a year ago.

How were you going to survive the next two months? 

—

When Tom arrived at hair and make-up the next morning with breakfast and coffees, the first person he saw was you: you had slippers on, shorts and his jersey, and as you took his breath away once again, he wondered: 

How was he going to survive the next two months? 

**Two months later**

Michael uncorked a champagne bottle and everyone shouted in celebration of the wrap-up. A modern love song played in the background and everyone danced while they had cake. You danced and messed around with Chey and Rosa. You’d changed your shoes from tall boots to slippers and had a bathrobe on top of your suit. 

You looked across the set and found Tom. He laughed with some of the producers, and when he met your gaze, he offered you a wide smile. 

_This is your chance. This is where you make it right. This is where you fight. _

“Speech!” An assistant exclaimed, and in seconds, everyone joined in. “Speech! Speech!” 

Tom flushed. “Okay, okay!” Tom walked towards the set, and everyone gathered around him. He had a glass of champagne, a fake bruise on his lip and the wig out, his hair wild and free. “I can’t begin to describe how thankful I am. How thankful I am for the opportunity to portray this character again and for the opportunity to work with such amazing people. Every person in this room was pivotal to the way we told this story. Michael, you’ve been a great leader. I also appreciated the chance to show a more vulnerable side of Loki through Siren,” you looked down with a smile when he mentioned your character, “to portray how chaotic characters can have healthy relationships, and (Y/N), there’s no one else I would’ve rather do it with than you.

_I love you. I love you. I love you. _

He raised his glass. “To Loki.” 

You all raised your glasses with him. “To Loki!” 

Tom walked towards you. “Great speech. Did you prepare that or did it just come naturally?” 

“Well, I am great at improv.” 

You snorted. “No, but honestly… Working with you? It’s been a blast. Loki is great because you make him great, and I’m so happy I got to be part of this story.” 

“I’m glad, too.” He meant he was glad he got to kiss you every once in a while. “What’s next for you?” 

You breathed in. “Nothing.” 

Tom frowned. “Nothing?” 

“Not until January, no. Press tours for my upcoming films are done, I went to red carpets in between filming, and my next film is in pre-production, so I have these next three months for myself.” 

According to his reaction, you’d be able to tell if he still has feelings for you or not. Tom, although he was one of the best actors of our generation, he had a tell. He’d cross his arms over his chest, look down, shuffle the weight of his feet and nod. 

“Really? I’m— I’m happy for you. What… What are you gonna do?” 

“I’m gonna see my family, spend the holidays with them. I’ll rekindle, too.” 

His eyes widened. “Rekindle? Really?” _He crossed his arms over his chest, shifted the weight of his body from his left leg to the right one._“Anyone in particular?” 

“Only one.” _He looked down and nodded_. Your eyes met his, and the butterflies in your belly tickled your entire body, a lump in your throat from the anticipation. “Can we talk?” You asked at the same time as him. 

You chuckled and looked around before stepping out of the set and into the cold night. You put your hands inside the pockets of your bathrobe. You sighed, smoke coming out of your mouth. You tied the robe around your waist and turned to face Tom. 

“Can I go first?” 

“Of course, yeah,” he said. 

You took a breath. _Here goes everything_. “I fired Lina the day we broke up. She… She wanted me to be the biggest and the best and, yeah, of course, I wanted that too, but not at the expense of my personal life. I felt suffocated all the time… except when I was with you.” His eyes widened. “Thomas, I love you. I love you now, I will love you tomorrow and the day after that. Honestly, I don’t think I can stop. If you don’t feel the same way, I understand, but if even a tiny part of you does… Please, just… give me another chance,” you pleaded and you took two steps towards him. “I’ve seen half of the world. Why don’t you join me for the rest?” 

You let out a breath, your chest feeling lighter. You’d been holding onto those words for so long a part of you doubted you’d ever get them out. You’d told the love of your life the truth. The rest was out of your control. 

Tom took two steps towards you, a small gap between you. He looked at you, meeting the eyes that always managed to take him aback, and said, “Yes.” 

A smile of relief escaped your lips. “Yes?” 

He nodded. He placed a hand on your cheek and another one on your waist to close the gap. “(Y/N), I would’ve waited for you until the end of times.” 

You tilted your head. “Well, that’s not long. Global warming and all. Apparently, we have two months to save the planet.” 

“Really?” He asked, leaning his face closer to yours. 

You bit your lower lip. “Yeah,” you said. You glanced at his lips and then gazed back into his eyes. 

“Then we better make the most of it.” 

And he kissed you. A real kiss with your real selves. Your body burned at his touch, immune to the cold of the upcoming winter. You hugged him with an arm on his back and another one around his neck, your bodies unable to get any closer than you already were. You smiled on his mouth, and when you bit his lower lip, you felt him do the same. 

“Let’s never break up again,” Tom said out of breath. 

“I agree wholeheartedly.” 

Your foreheads touched. “I love you, Dragonfly.”

You responded with a kiss, and as people celebrated inside the set and you returned to the man you loved, the rest of the world anxiously waited to be seen. 


End file.
